shots of monochrome
by xfucktheglasses
Summary: The immorality of the fire goddess. Or, how Rei is tired of babysitting. —Rei, Jadeite.


I don't know. But I'm gonna go write Rei and Jadeite making out now. :)

**shots of monochrome**

Winter is setting over Tokyo; like a blanket, almost, she thinks with disinterest.

The air is cold—harsh against her skin—hair wild behind her like black fire. Goosebumps prickles her flesh out of habit, but she doesn't feel so cold; her body temperature is too high to feel anything as mediocre as the freezing air. She has a bare leg crossed over the other, her right elbow resting on her toned thigh, fingers loosely clasping a cigar.

Rei sits on top of the cool metal of a fire escape.

She is in her Senshi form and on her wrist she can hear her sisters. They are muttering facts and orders and plans at a fast pace; panic and paranoia laced in their words.

Rei ignores them.

(This is wrong, Mars growls.)

Amethyst eyes count the city lights; stares down the shadows of skyscrapers and dares misfortune to call her out.

Because this is what they are, she knows. She's known for so long; it prickled the back of her skull even before Usagi and Ami came alone before this other—entirely different—entity resurfaced from a black void, long forgotten, like a drowned rat. She has known they were children of misfortune long before anything about the Silver Millennium came to be.

Rei takes a long drag of her cigar, the burning tip glowing orange and ashes breaking off, free falling for endless feet until it dissolved in midair before it ever had a chance to touch the ground. She does not remember when she acquired the cigar, but she does remember snapping her gloved fingers, igniting a small, wild, fire and bringing one of the tips to life.

She remembers calling it quits.

Now that was something almost surprising—almost, just almost.

Rei was the second Senshi to awaken (Minako does not count Minako does not count). Goddess of fire and war and passion; everything that brings the ugly out of someone. Everything that makes one irrevocably weak and powerful all in one. She was Mars incarnate, skin scorching to the touch, eyes like pits of fire, hair like wild flames. She settled into the skin too soon—didn't think—didn't sit and ask the Fire.

She just accepted.

And with it came the heavy burden of keeping more than half of her attention on Usagi—this Princess of hers that was too much to handle.

It was tiring; like babysitting for a toddler.

(But she grew, Mars comments almost fondly.)

And Rei knows this is true.

But where did it land them, she inquires almost wryly.

With the Princess running amuck, lost and running—escaping with no thought of facing that fact that no amount of running will get her away from destiny.

(And the pot calls the kettle black, Mars hisses.)

Tokyo is being drowned in dry rain, thunder rumbling with power—anger—or perhaps its worry; Makoto is probably destroying herself with worry, wherever she was fulfilling her duty. Rei brings her cigar to her lips, flicking her wrist and half listening to the voices. Silly, she reprimands, by the time they find her there'll be blood and snow; who's, Rei doesn't care.

Rei has called it quits.

(_Mars, where's your location?!_

_Mars, where the hell are you?!_

_Mars—_

_Mars—_

_Mars—_

_Goddamnit, Mars!)_

"Do you not hear them?"

She does not flinch; rather, she simply taps the gloved pad of her forefinger against the length of the cigar, sending off another round of ashes to its inevitable disappearance. She lifts her dark violet eyes to the shadows of the skyscrapers, again, watching shadows dance with shadows dance with shadows.

The air has gotten colder, the raging thunder has gone farther away from the city and Rei knows her decision will not last long. And this angers her—she calls it quits, but she knows this will never last long; it never does. Anger speaking over anger speaking over anger—

"Rei."

"Why are you even _here_?"

"Can you hear them screaming?"

Always answer a question with a question with a question with a question…

Rei whips her head to the side and glares up at him. He's standing, balanced, on the corner of the fire escape she is perched on, his arms crossed over his chest, gold-blond hair messy as it battled the wind. He's looking at the scenery, his jaw clenched and his lips pressed in a thin line, and blue eyes mere slits.

"I can," she finally answers, dismissively. She flicks her wrist again, lowering it down after slipping her cigar to her lips and keeping it in between her teeth.

He hums, still staring—scanning—body tense, muscles restrained against his uniform.

(Mars purrs.)

"Why are you here, Jadeite," she hisses, no fight, no bite. "Should you not be doing your Master's bidding?"

Jadeite chuckles. "I am. Searching for the Princess is of outmost importance, I am merely catching another stray."

"You disgust me."

"I know."

(Mars is approvingly quiet.)

Rei whips her head, again, and glares at every single building that catches her eye. She can hear Luna, now, as well; the search is turning desperate.

Damn that Usagi.

Damn Sailor Moon.

Damn Princess Serenity.

"I am tired of cleaning after her," she says, more to herself than to her intrusive companion. "What was the point of seeing the future we—she—will build if she decides to run away and not care for her safety and I—I just am so very tired."

Jadeite is quiet, next to her, no spitfire to rile her up. Upon his resurrection he was an entirely different persona with fragments of who he used to be, it drove Rei crazy and stirred Mars into a frenzy of emotions. But this is not about Jadeite; this is about Rei calling it quits and throwing her duties aside.

This is about Rei just being tired; her patience dissipating like smoke and leaving her with the outmost desire to just stop this play, wearing a set of skin that was hers… Yet felt entirely too big and bothersome. This is about questioning everything—destiny, decisions, everything.

"Everyone is tired," he finally comments, offhandedly. He does an amazing job at sounding condescending and benevolent all in one.

"I'm going to find her," she says, destroying the cigar against the cool metal of the fire escape. "I'll end up finding her; I always do."

It is quiet; Tokyo is oblivious to their problems and Makoto's thunder is gone. The voices at her wrist are still insistent and Rei glares as misfortune smirks.

She had called it quits, but she finds herself standing up from her seat, dark hair whipping in anger, forelocks tangling with her lashes. She is angry, because Mars is anger and fire. She clenches her jaw taut, curls her gloved hands into fists and settles into what she knows she cannot escape.

Jadeite is gone and as she jumps into the rooftops, she lifts her wrist up to her lips.


End file.
